


Pieces of You

by ArtemisClydeFrogge



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Sexual Tension, Size Queen Techie, Smut, Techienician, Virgin Matt, Virginity, blowjob, size queen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-22 08:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisClydeFrogge/pseuds/ArtemisClydeFrogge
Summary: Collection of the requests I've gotten at TechsFromLastNight, generally expanded and revised/improved.





	1. Size Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: A rumor caught Techie's attention. The new transfer Matt has the biggest dick, but the angry blond isn't letting anyone have a taste. Techie, being a size queen, wants to see for himself and befriends the blond only to find out he's an awkward virgin.

Rumors traveled faster than sound on the Finalizer, which was saying a lot of an otherwise regal and stately war craft. Some were more credible than others: Kylo Ren has an eight pack (Kylo Ren is ripped), Hux is a power bottom, Phasma hates vanilla ice cream, Millicent ate better food than anyone else on board, Matt- the radar technician Matt- was hung like the Universe meant for him to commit murders with his dick.

Brennan, often called Techie, a security technician, found this rumor to be one that was most interesting. He also found it to be the one he _wanted_ to be true, whereas generally he didn’t give a bantha’s ass what was going on in the bedrooms (or stomachs?) of other people. And cats.

He had tried to suss out the truth himself, by very careful watching of cameras and the best attempts at good timing, _but_. They were on two different schedules and the cameras were aimed to give troopers and techs privacy, not take it away.

Bullshit, that’s what it was. Techie was generally quiet and unassuming, given to nerves and anxiety. There was really only one or two things that brought him down to earth- so to speak- and getting those things could be complex, at best. He knew what he wanted, but articulating that, on channels he couldn’t be one _t_ _housand_ percent sure were secure, with people he couldn’t be one _hundred thousand_ percent sure he could trust, was next to impossible.

But this _rumor._ Matt had been one of the techs that had been helpful when he first came aboard the Finalizer. In fact, Matt had been downright sweet, but they were in different divisions, in different corps, in different areas on the ship, and had not seen much of each other. He was comfortable admitting that this had been disappointing, because Matt was cute and seemed strong. And he had a big nose and big hands and feet- and that. Well.

If the rumor was true, he was going to give the green light on this crush _and_ get what he needed to relax and feel good. It was a win-win, with probably another win in there somewhere. If he got his way, he’d be more spoiled than Millicent.

He flushed, anticipating; being spread open, Matt’s half undone suit, being full full _full._

Yes, this was absolutely worth exploring, as nerve-wracking as it may well end up being.

Still. (He thought of coming, maybe untouched even, on Matt’s pulsing cock). Worth it.

Now, to check more feeds…

 


	2. Size Queen P2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Size anon again; that's a wonderful start, hope you write more. Awkward Virgin Matt and Size Queen Techie. Please continue if you can.

Three weeks later, Brennan was ready. Figuratively and literally. His underwear, for one, were slightly damp from prep, but that was a reminder. Totally worth it. Everything was planned out and he had all the evidence he needed to think that the mission would be a success.

Camera H228-B had shown Matt in multiple positions of showing off: Tying the arms of his coveralls around his waist and mopping the sweat from his brow, upper body Adonis-like in its structure. Camera G443-S had shown Matt lifting incomprehensibly heavy weights in the gym, carefully controlling his breathing, glasses temporarily absent.

Camera T99-S had given Bren some particularly amazing shots of Matt losing his temper in a riot of swearing and aggressive hand motions. The swearing especially gave Techie shivers that closely approximated how delighted he would be to hear those words up close. However, the _best_ evidence he had came from the audio pulled from Camera F21-D; another technician and a trooper pausing as they waited for a lift to another level:

_As long as my fiancee never sees it, am I right?!_

_Right, I try to give guys their privacy, but jesus. He could have anyone he wanted on this fuckin' ship._

_Absolutely. If I was packing what he has, I'd have three fiancees._

_[They laugh, the lift arrives. Bren feels blood rush to his dick; it takes less than two minutes to come, and the sound he makes is an embarrassing prayer: Please, please, pick me pick me, please.]_

Now, in this moment of truth, he shuffled as quickly as he could toward the level where Matt would be getting off of beta shift and heading to his room. Over the interlink, Matt had already agreed to have Brennan visit, but the security technician was going to arrive sooner than they had planned: He wanted Matt fresh off of working, his hair damp with salt and his skin warm with sweat.

Brennan himself was immaculately clean, in preparation, hair done back in a series of braids, so that it wouldn't get in the way of the wet, filthy blowjob he was planning on starting the evening with. His relief, Fia, had commented on how nice it looked, which made him all the more pleased with himself.

As he waited for the lift that would bear him to Matt's side, he shot off another message to her: _Thank you again for covering this shift. I'm really happy to have the evening cycle off._

Fia shot back: _Have fun on your date, pookie!_

Bren giggled to himself, nerves ramping. Did it count as a date when he planned to skip right to third and fourth base?

Matt was just unlocking his door when Bren rushed up to him, cheeks pink and hands trembling in excitement. “Matt!” he called as he increased his speed, coming up too close and too excited. Matt _was_ sweaty.

“Oh, hi, Techie,” Matt sort of grinned in confusion, watching as the panel door slid open with a soft _schick_. “I wasn't expecting you- so soon?”

Bren bit his lip and slipped inside the room without waiting for an invitation. The other technician's quarters were fairly standard; a space roughly twelve feet wide by fifteen long, part of it reserved for a closet, desk space, and mini-refresher, just large enough to use and wash one's hands inside of. These things were all in a row, just like Bren's own room. On the opposite wall was the relatively generous bed, blankets and pillows in a rumple, with a trunk for personal items at its foot. Matt appeared to be using what remained of the free space for a non-regulation fish tank and a set of free weights. There was a schedule and a poster with the First Order insignia near the desk. There was a reading light bent over the headboard. It was _amazing_.

Matt followed him in, dropping his work vest on the lid of the trunk while Bren spun in another slow circle, taking in the little personalized details that adorned a few choice spaces in the room.

“I, um, I was going to take a shower, uh, before you got here.”

Bren stopped and looked at Matt's chest. The blonde wasn't out of his coveralls yet. His breath shuddering slightly as he breathed in, Bren walked up and lay his fingers just over the zipper. “You don't have to do that.”

“Um.” Matt took a half step backward, hitting the door with a gentle thump; his face going warm with the kind of blush Bren didn't often see. “I'm. Pretty gross from work, though...”

Bren started sliding the zipper down, glancing up at Matt through his lashes: A time-honored flirtation tactic at which he excelled. “Like I said, you don't have to. I like you like this.”

Matt was slightly taller, and the strangled laugh that tumbled past his lips hit Bren's forehead in an exaggerated puff of air. Just as the zipper slid past Matt's collar bones, the blonde jolted as if burned and darted away, farther into the room. Bren watched as he bent over and started straightening the bed, still chuckling nervously.

_What?_

Tactic change.

“I like your posters,” Bren said softly, moving closer but not touching. He pointed to the propaganda piece, “I've never seen this one before.”

Matt straightened and cleared his throat; he was right behind Bren, at a respectable distance, “Yeah? Thank you. Uh, that one was actually made by a friend of mine in Biometrics. She printed maybe fifty, so I'm happy I got one.”

The redhead backed up the one and a half steps it took to bump into Matt's chest, his hips. “Sorry,” he murmured, turning to face Matt properly. “I'm just happy to be here, you know?”

“Oh. I'm glad,” the radar tech shrugged, “I guess I should at least get out of this.”

Bren watched with wide eyes as Matt went to the closet part of his living wall and kicked his shoes into it. _Yes yes yes yes less clothes the better_. With as much grace as possible, Bren arranged himself on the edge of the bed, his legs tucked demurely. He could do subtle. Ish.

Matt emerged from the open doors in his black tank, shoving his strong legs into a pair of grey sweatpants. Bren smiled. “Sorry for throwing your evening off. I just really wanted to be here.”

“Oh, yeah, no, it's fine,” Matt blushed again, catching sight of how Bren leaned partway onto his bed his belly a soft roll pressing against his light shirt. “We've been messaging so long now, I, uh, I wanted you to be here, too.”

_Nice. Back on track._

“Sit here a minute, I'll rub your shoulders.”

“Oh, you- don't have to-” Matt shoved his glasses closer to his face, as though he had to focus on what he was seeing, proving it real. Bren patted the bed, rapid and insistent. “Uh. Okay. If you want. That would actually be really nice.”

He sat, gingerly, as though Bren might instead choose to attack him. It didn't quite add up. Hadn't they been flirting for a week solid? Wasn't Matt the go-to guy for satisfaction of a particular nature?

Bren started lightly before digging his thumbs into Matt's broad trapezius muscles. “Your shoulders are so big.”

“Heh, yeah, I, uh, do the same workout the troopers do. I told you that already, didn't I?”

“Yeah, I'm still really impressed,” Bren did what he considered to be straight witchcraft with his hands and began pulling unsuspecting moans out of Matt's throat; his hands were his true weapons, along with his mouth, in getting what he wanted.

And he hadn't gotten what he wanted in so long.

“Matt,” he whispered, letting his hands trail along the bigger man's spine, “You... Do you like me? I thought you might, from your messages.”

The blonde sat up straight, back rigid, muscles moving in a ripple that went straight to Bren's dick. _Oh my god, he's so meaty, holy fuck._

Matt swiveled in place, his face open and somewhat concerned. “I. Yeah.”

The redhead moved, one smooth, long-legged shift into Matt's lap. He had practiced this maneuver in other avenues, and considered himself to be damn proficient. He was also slightly hard, and he hadn't gotten any signals that outright suggested Matt _didn't_ want him in his lap- just that he was a little nervous, and that was fine. Bren could work with nervous.

“Holy shit,” Matt gasped, hands going immediately to Bren's soft waist.

“You're so big,” Bren mumbled, rolling his hips just once against Matt's lap. The sweatpants did very little to obscure what Matt had to offer. “I came here for it, Matt, you must know that. I know I'm not the only one. There's _talk_.”

Matt seemed to be short-circuiting, his fingers going tense, relaxed, tense against Bren's waist, big thumbs just _there_ against his lowermost ribs. His jaw had dropped and he was staring at Bren's mouth, so Bren licked his lips and let out a very good approximation of what a good dicking could make his voice do.

“They- talk? Who? I don't-” Matt swallowed, his adam's apple clicking from the strain in his neck as he looked up at his guest. “Uh.”

“Everybody,” Bren ran his hands through the back of Matt's hair, tugging the curls so that Matt had to tip his head back. Even his neck showcased his strength. Bren leaned in, tucked a kiss against Matt's pulse. “Everybody who's seen you...”

“Techie, I-- Oh, um,” Matt stammered, to the tune of Bren rolling his hips once again, and bringing his mouth close by Matt's lips, daring him to kiss the breath out of his lungs.

“Please? Let me have it, too?” he stopped himself before saying too much: _It doesn't have to mean anything; we can just be friends, too_ ; and, most damning: _I wouldn't mind if it meant a lot._

“Wow, um,” Matt tightened his grip on Bren's waist and stared at the redhead's damp lower lip. “So we _were_ flirting, hunh?”

“Of course we were,” Bren took pity on him and let his mouth fit against Matt's. His lips were slightly chapped, his upper lip tasting faintly of salt. _Oh, god_.

Matt's hands slid up and caught around Bren's narrow shoulders, then traveled back down to grip the tops of his thighs. The kiss was wet and heavy and _intense_ , Matt moaning more than Bren was expecting him to. But it was good, so good. Bren breathed a needy staccato and dared to suck on Matt's tongue, then released it just to bite Matt's ridiculous lower lip. “Mattie,” he murmured, against his better judgment, and then tried to override the sweetness that had melted his voice with an energetic shove of his ass down into Matt's warm lap.

It seemed to work, and _oh my god there it is._ Under the vague curve of his butt there was the telltale swell of Matt's cock, and it was already shaping up to be earth shattering at the least. “Matt, Matt, can we? Please?”

He rubbed up more aggressively, taking advantage of his own soft pants to show off how being in Matt's lap made him feel. Before he could answer, Bren went back to kissing him, all tongue and teeth and hands grasping at his neck and hair. His tongue swept from one side of Matt's mouth to the other, his teeth singing from the pressure on his gums; when he pulled away Matt's mouth was shiny and his own mouth felt puffy and used. _Perfect._ “Please?”

Matt blinked, lids heavy behind his glasses; he rocked upward, tentative, before he looked down and saw how Bren's pants were straining. How his own shaft was pressing too, insistent. He looked up and licked his lips, his face open and shy. “I- I. I don't know what you've heard, uh. I don't really understand, because. I mean. You wouldn't be _next._ ”

Bren cocked his head, appraising. Matt's hands were still locked on his thighs, his big thumbs braced on Bren's illiac crests. There might not have been enough blood left to power any synapses that weren't firing to the tune of, _Big, more, in, in, more._ “Hm?”

“I've. Never.” Matt cleared his throat, glancing to the corner of the room as though he were being observed, “Uh. Ever. You'd be the first.”

Bren froze. _No. No way_. He clapped his hands around Matt's jaw, fighting a surge of panic that should have killed his erection but only served to push it more aggressively toward Matt's flat stomach. He only managed to hiss, “ _What._ ”

Matt flushed between his fingers, glancing back. “Uh. I think the common terminology is. Uh. Virgin. That is. I'm. One. I am.”

“You can't be,” Bren shot back, filter-less. “You- you're too, too _attractive_.”

“I think you might, uh, be the first person to think that.”

“Matt!” Bren shrieked in a kind of stage whisper, “You. Are. Hung. Everyone talks about it.”

“Shit, they really do? I thought you were, I don't know. Making things up to be nice? Or joking.” Matt shrugged one big shoulder before letting his hands slip away from the thin cotton of Bren's lounge pants.

Bren almost let him, but even the panic wasn't strong enough to dissuade him from the goal. So he had been wrong. Really wrong. He leaned backward but reached for Matt's wrists, pulling him back into a holding position. “Wow,” he whispered, “You. You've never fucked anyone. I can't believe this.”

Matt flushed, noticeably and with his tongue bitten between his teeth, at _fucked_ and breathed in. His hips twitched and Bren, reflexively, clamped his knees more tightly around them. “This isn't goddamn real,” he muttered onward, patting down the blonde curls he still wanted so suck on while Matt, ideally, bent him in half until his knees were earmuffs. “Do you- is it just what you say to people?”

“No!” Matt groused, for the first time looking put off by Bren's rambling. “I wouldn't lie.”

“Shit, I'm- I'm sorry,” the redhead dipped down to kiss Matt's forehead, his cheek, “You're just. Unbelievably hot, okay? And. Shit. I haven't. Uh.”

“You're a virgin, too?”

He couldn't help the full-body snort that rocketed out of him, “Um, no. Not even a little bit.”

Leaning in, he took a breath and then let it out against Matt's ear; he could work with this.

Change of tactic.

“I've never done it with a virgin,” he whispered. Matt shivered underneath him, the press of his cock reawakening against Bren's ass.

“You still want to?” Matt mumbled, his sweet brown eyes dark with misgiving, though he had begun, possessively, to wrap his arms around the redhead's back, and had, perhaps experimentally, tugged on the end of his red braid. “I, uh, probably won't be any good.”

“I'll lead,” Bren rolled his hips, this time with more verve and more of a _snap_ to his spine _,_ “You'll figure it out- promise.”

Matt whined, deep in the back of his throat, and nodded- as enthusiastic as a puppy.

He could work with that.


	3. Size Queen P3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: Oh wow, you made a p2!!! It was well worth the wait love. I can't wait to see how techie takes the lead. Does he go all out or take it nice and slow? How big is Matt? Even with all his prep does Techie still have a hard time taking Matt's dick? Do they have a short recovery time to go more than one round? How much does Matt cum? I have so many question dear please keep up the good work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have answers

Having established that they were on the same page, and that they both knew what that page entailed, it could only get better.

“Oh, shit, oh my god,” Matt muttered, pulling Brennan down by tucking one hand over the top of his shoulder and spreading the other over as much of his ass as possible. “You're so hot, I can't believe you want to do this...”

With renewed eagerness, and his cock beginning to chafe inside his pants, Bren rubbed himself against every point of contact that was available to him before snaking his hands down to Matt's hem. The tank had to come off. Yesterday.

It didn't hurt, either, as they kissed: The way that Matt seemed to genuinely _like_  Bren. That this felt unlike some of (a lot of) the fucks he'd been on the receiving end of, which were out of pity, or desperation, or both. That a few of the times he'd thought he was on the right track, he wasn't.

_Oh, you're... fatter than I thought you were._

_Sorry, I changed my mind. I can't get hard with the sound of your eyes like that._

_You can blow me, but I don't really want to fuck. You know._

Matt was so, so hard against his thighs, letting his hands wander. He kept going _back_ to the softness of Brennan's belly, the bit of spread to his thighs. As soon as the redhead pulled Matt's tank over his ears, the blonde was tearing Bren's shirt of so quickly the other tech felt static jump into his hair. “Wow,” Matt breathed, pawing over the swell of Bren's nipples and then down to his belly button. “Oh, my god, wow.”

Bren continued to rock his hips, letting his hands settle on Matt's wrists, “Really?”

Most of the men he'd been with were attracted to him enough that they wanted inside of him and then out, and the lights stayed off. It was fine, of course, because in the dark he felt less self-conscious and as long as they were packing what they'd promised, any and all of his thoughts and feelings were generally fucked soundly out of his head. This was rather different.

Matt leaned in to kiss his neck, emboldened, it seemed, and slid his hands around to Bren's back, breaking the redhead's hold on his wrists. “You are _so_ fucking hot, you're so _pretty_. I didn't dare hope that- we would actually,” he started sucking into the soft skin above his collar bones and then let off with a wet gasp, “God, you're so soft...”

Bren had been sure he couldn't get any harder, but the breathless praise that fell so easily from Matt's mouth was _intoxicating._ Bren grabbed Matt's jaw with both hands and moaned, “I'm _wet_ , too, Mattie, I'm already wet for you.”

“What?” Matt choked, looking down and then back up into Bren's otherworldly eyes. Grinning, Bren slid off of Matt's lap and unfastened the closure on his non-reg pants. Standing just shy of being in between Matt's long legs, he slowly slid them down his legs and stepped out of his underwear as well. Matt stared dumbly, as though an angel or god had appeared in his small room- which made Brennan  _feel_ rather godlike, then, standing nude and at attention, the backs of his thighs damp and sticky with promises.

Matt continued to stare, jaw hanging, the tops of his ears a bright, virulent red. Bren turned in a tight circle, heart pounding; very slowly he bent as if to pick something up. He could see fish swimming in disinterested circles, looking for food. “See?” he said, running his hands behind himself, from hip to the back of his knees. “All wet for you.”

He received no immediate response, but when he peeked over his shoulder, Matt was working his pants down with such furious intensity Bren almost laughed. The laughter dropped like a brick, however, when he _saw it_. Jutting proud and flushed red and _terrifying_ from between Matt's legs, was an absolute monster cock, tip blunt and wet and not nearly in Bren's mouth enough. The redhead felt his legs suddenly shake, but before he had a chance to turn around and fall to his knees in wide-mouthed supplication, he felt large arms wrap around his waist and haul him backward.

As though he were no more weighty than a sack of potatoes, he found himself tossed on to his back onto the middle of the bed. From this angle, he had a better grasp on what was waiting for him, as his eyes widened and whirred and slammed calculations into his future. At nine inches solid and with the girth to back it up, Matt was what Bren  considered perfect: Large, but not dangerously so. Like all rumors, this one had been slightly exaggerated- but Bren had had one longer in his time, and it had not been comfortable enough to be fun. It would still be work, but this- _this_ would be _fun_.

Matt was advancing to the edge of the bed and Bren wasn't sure if he should unhinge his jaw like a python or just roll onto his stomach and present himself like a bitch in heat.

Matt groaned as he looked down at him, one big hand wrapped loosely around his dick, “I can't believe this, look at you.”

“I want you in me so much,” Bren blurted, beyond turned on by the gravel in Matt's tone and the intensity in his sweet brown eyes. “Open me up, please, more- you'll have to, you're so _big_.”

“Tell me how,” Matt slid onto the bed, leg muscles bunching attractively even at this minor movement. Bren sucked in a breath. He might have been able to muscle his way onto it, but with a little extra prep he'd be able to ride dick like a champion _and_ be able to walk the next day.

Bren put one foot on the floor, making eye contact with Matt's cyclops of a cock; it stared at him back, daring him to feel fear or trepidation. Instead, he felt lightheaded and combustive, skin flaming and mouth salivating. From the floor, his foot found and lifted the pants he'd abandoned. “In the front pocket, there's a tube. Here, please.”

“Fingers?” Matt asked, accepting the pants as they were conveyed.

“You've seen porn, haven't you?” Bren grinned, spreading his legs and lifting his ass a few inches before dropping back down. “Fuck me up on those big fingers, come on, please.”

“Holy shit,” Matt repeated, fumbling for the lube that Bren had wisely brought along. “I- I can do that. I can- Oh, my God, you're so wet already, I wanna- I don't even-”

The poor guy was short-circuiting, but his application of the lubrication was sound and Brennan kept going, wanting to encourage whatever confidence he could. “Yes, like that, _yes_ , go ahead, add another one, _fuck_.”

Matt gazed at him with open awe, pressing forward until his fingers were comfortably ensconced and Bren was pushing his heels into the covers on the bed, groaning and begging for a third.

“It doesn't hurt?”

“No, no, not yet, _unnh_ , it's perfect,” Bren writhed, vacillating between wanting to guide the other man to his prostate and just letting him figure it out on his own, if he could. It wouldn't matter once Matt was buried inside of him, deep and full.

“Not _yet?_ Will it _hurt_?” Matt gaped, fingers stuttering to a stop that left Bren  almost screaming for action. Instead, he lifted both hands and reached for Matt's face, drawing him in for a kiss. The blonde allowed for it, balancing precariously on one thick wrist while his right index and middle finger hooked gently within Bren's hole.

Disengaging Matt's wonderful, plush mouth, Bren giggled, feeling the first flush of a new stretch. “Mmm, yes, it can hurt a little bit, but it's an achy hurt- it's _good_ and I _like_ it, do you understand?”

“I want you to feel good,” Matt intoned, as serious as if he were making a knight's vow at the foot of a Lord or Lady.

“Mmm, I will, I promise, I want you so bad, so bad,” the redhead spread his legs more widely, sliding his hand down to guide Matt's fingers more surely into himself; Matt sat up again to accommodate the angle, biting his lip like a dream. “ _Yessss_ , add another, there- like that,” he let out a high-pitched, wholly undignified squeak before whining, “Spread me for your cock, Mattie, spread me _please_.”

Matt did as he was told, the strength even in his _fingers_ apparent as he pried them apart, slowly and carefully and sweetly. Bren moaned for both reward and for having lost much of the control he had over his own vocal cords. “Mmmm, ahhh, see-- I told you would would be good at this.”

“I have-” Matt swallowed, looking up from where his fingers worked between Bren's pale legs.

“Hm?” Bren writhed, luxuriating in the slow burn.

“Uh. Watched a lot of porn. Of. Guys. And,” Matt swallowed again, choked a little on his own spit, “A lot of them. A lot of them looked like you.”

The redhead stopped moving for a moment; should he be horrified or flattered? An arousing combination of both? Matt pulled his attention back with a sharp tug of his fingers, face anxious and in need of reassurance. Bren decided that he was flattered, but it could also have been the decision on the part of his cock, leaking and impatient against his hip. “How much did you want them? Did you touch yourself? Come all over a holo to some slutty redhead like me?”

Matt didn't argue with Bren's assessment of himself, only wrapped the fingers of his free hand around the colossal breadth of his dick, down at the root, and squeezed, letting out a long, hissing breath. “Oh, holy shit...”

“Did you- did you almost come just now?" Bren sat halfway up, staring at the way Matt's grip forced his dick to stand and point upward, as though it were going to draw down lightning from an atmospheric heaven.

Matt let out a loose chuckle, his fingers twitching inside. “The shit you say...”

Bren was already scrambling backward, off of the already incredible expanding and contracting pressure of Matt's unsure fingers. “Shhhh, lay down, now- now, come on, please- _oh_ I want you to cum in me-- 'm better than any holo you've ever seen, I'll _show_ you, please let me have it, _now,_ please.”

Matt stared.

Bren smoothed his hands over the space he had vacated, “I can show you on your data pad my history, I'm clean- we can use a condom if you want, but-- God, Mattie I want to ride you so bad, I want to feel you dripping out of me-”

Matt snapped from his trance and rushed to lay on his back, shaking his head as he went, “No- No, I trust you, besides, we could get STD hypos later.”

Bren laughed, deep from his belly, charmed. “So romantic.”

“And my- cum, dripping down your thighs? That's romantic?”

“ _Unh_ ,” Bren lost his breath; holy _fuck_. Matt had taken his words and upped the ante. And now he was reclining back with his hands behind his head on the pillows, cock curved up and at attention, while he relaxed as though desperate redheads routinely broke down his doors slathering for a good dicking.

The rumors would finally have a gem of truth to them.

Carefully, he straddled Matt's hips; he was thick all the way down, his chest broad and his eight pack no exaggeration. Muscles carved their way down his trunk, marking a path to his strong legs by way of the massive dick that Bren now held against his own, rocking against it slightly. He wasn't an undersized man, but Matt made him _look_ like he was. It took both hands to keep them held up against each other, and he watched, entranced, as the head of his own cock leaked a milky string of fluid across the ridges that outlined Matt's.

“Get you in me, make you come,” he mumbled, ass clenching, and then grabbed the bottle of lube. He let what remained of the packet dribble down over the head of the beast and bit his lips in anticipation; Matt groaned as it slid down, letting his hands out to slap them down on Bren's warm thighs.

The beggar rose up on his knees and reached behind himself to guide the weeping head toward his rim; out of the corner of his eye, Matt looked to be holding his breath, perhaps in disbelief. Sweet virgin, he'd get used to it eventually. If Bren had his way, this would only be the first of many.

Though the rumors might not catch on to his waffling over whether he planned to share.

Slowly, painstakingly, he lowered himself, Matt gasping and moaning and jerking his shoulders as though to keep from grabbing Bren around the waist and pinning him, taking all that he wanted in one slam of his hips. Keening and panting, Bren began to feel lightheaded all over again; sinking down was an exercise in exhaustive patience and blissful agony. Matt was so, so big, and so, so hard; Bren had been stretched twice and still felt himself burning for every centimeter that he took. It felt like he had been seating himself for hours but still had more to go. _But it was so good_. He was full, really full, and taking yet more.

He was a machine made for taking cock; with a groan, he let his hands down to Matt's, where they still clutched convulsively on his shaking thighs. “You're amazing,” the blonde blurted, “It feels so good, I want-”

“What do you want?” Bren crooned, nearly _nearly_ there.

“I want. To do this all the- time. Every day-- _oooh my god_!” Matt crunched himself upward and then dropped back down as Bren seated himself fully, clamping his knees alongside Matt's obliques and leaning back. It brought tears to his eyes, the crushing intensity of it, the burn in his muscles and his back and ass, finally resting against the tops of Matt's incredible thighs. Matt was rubbing his own eyes, suddenly, with the thumb and first finger of one hand, muttering, “I can't believe...”

“Mm?” Bren took a deep breath through his nose, feeling his lower body relax completely into the perfect sensation of being a hilt. Carefully, he lifted an inch or so and slid back down, experimenting, already satisfied.

“I- just that someone wanted to do this with me. That someone like _you_ wanted to, I- sorry, it's stupid.”

“Shhh, shhh,” Bren ran his fingernails down Matt's chest, leaving shallow red scores. “They don't know what they've been missing. I'll show you- as much as you want.”

With that, he lifted back and slid back down, more quickly. In easy succession, he alternated between dropping himself with practiced ease until his thighs burned, and slow, torturous rocking in place, as though he could someone sink _more_ into himself. He watched as Matt became more and more mindless, holding on to Brennan's waist or hips and urging him along, groaning so deep from his chest he sounded like a bear.

“Yes, yesss,” he moaned, running his hands over his face and into his braided hair, knocking his prostate in waves of insistence, ramping his way to an orgasm that he had been dreaming of for weeks. His thought process was blissfully blanked, with no room for anything beside: “Oh, you're so good in me, you're so big, _Mattie!_ ”

“Holy shit, oh my god, oh god,” Matt's curls were limp with sweat as the temperature in the room rose and rose; above him, Bren's soft body worked perfectly on him, _around_ him. It felt better than he'd ever dared imagine; slick and hot and _tight_ even after his fingers. Just thinking of how sublime the security technician had felt, squeezing his fingers and spread out on his bed, made Matt's gut tight with adoration. “Fuck, yes, ride me, you- you slut, _yes-_ ”

“ _Oooh,_ fuck,” Bren dragged his fingers over his own nipples for a moment before tilting forward, easing up Matt's body as abruptly as he dared. “Please fuck me, please, I'm a slut, a whore, I need it, _please_.”

Hovering slightly over him, Bren had given Matt's legs room to lift, for his knees to bend and his heels to dig into the mattress. Instinctively, the radar tech did, pushing himself back into the well-worked heat that gripped and pulled at him. “Yes, _yes_ , just like that, fuck me, use me, oh god, oh- oh--”

Having been ceded control, Matt felt an immediate and powerful need to _take_. It was unlike any evening sat in front of his data pad or a holo with his prick in his hand as he watched some pretty thing bent over and wailing, unlike any fantasy he'd ever put together for a bedtime or shower wank. It was _real_ and he could _have_. Bren was resting more and more of his weight on Matt's chest, rubbing his pretty red dick across his abs, still encouraging him, still hissing _I'm a slut for you, your whore, all yours, fuck me, take me, use me, cum in me please, Matt Matt Mattie_ in his ear in between desperate whines and short, uncontrollable little moans.

He wrapped an arm around the redhead's sweaty back and gripped his slender shoulder, locking him in place. The other hand he let rest on Bren's curvy little ass, enjoying the feeling of Bren's hips working in an answering rut, chasing his own climax.

As Matt found his stride, fucking upward, Bren wailed and started seeing stars, the position giving his partner the perfect angle for dragging- for _slamming_ \- his dick along Bren's prostate in a sharp, aggressive rhythm that had Bren  _begging_.

Matt obliged, absently sucking on his earlobe and licking his neck in turns, grunting with every lift of his hips. It had been a while, to be fair, but Bren was so far gone in feeling good that he was distantly aware that this was possibly the best sex he'd ever had. He held on tight, wedging his forearms underneath the pillows and screaming into them when, for a moment, Matt's cock seemed to press his prostate into another dimension entirely. He shook, orgasm building faster and faster, echoing Matt's rising, gasping tone.

“Oh, _god_ , baby, you feel so good, I'm- I'm gonna--” Matt's one hand spread on Brennan's ass before its fingers squeezed, bruising, into the warm skin. “Shit, I'm so close, I'm gonna- fill you up- fill you up just like you asked, Techie- _Bren_ -  _fuck_ \--”

Bren's dick twitched, _hard_ , at the words, trapped as it was between them, hot and leaking and so, so sensitive. “Please, please, yes, cum in me, use me up, Mattie, I want it, all of it, please--”

“Ahhhg, _fuck_ , fuck- oh my god yes, yes, I'm cumming- I'm cumming, oh my god, _fuuck,_ ” Matt's hips jolted and snapped, shoving as deeply as he could manage and the orgasm _of his life_ rocketed out of him, all sparks and back-bowing brightness. Bren felt it, so deeply his head spun as he shouted into the pillow over Matt's huge shoulder. Hot, thick, full, and _so much_ ; he rode it, mind going fabulously blank as he was coated and filled and made to drip. He felt it, _still_ _going_ , spasms of it, and when Matt let out a soft, relieved gasp and pushed Bren's ass down against the still-spurting cock, the desperate feeling finally crested and broke and released him.

He came with a long, loud cry, rubbing himself off through it, the ridges of Matt's abs like something out of a wet dream. “Oh, oh, _ooooh shit_ , oh yes, yes Ma-tt, Matt, _fuck!_ ” his cum sprayed and spread, his climax rolling through him like a storm, so strong his vision went black and sparkled.

When he came back to himself, Matt was petting his back and kissing his neck and shoulder, idle and worshipful. He moaned softly, dizzy and loose-limbed. “Oh, my god, that was amazing. I told you, you're a natural,” he murmured, nuzzling the side of Matt's head, where the sweat and sex smell were sweet and salty mixed all together.

“Because of you,” Matt murmured back, half-soft and making a slow business of pulling out. Bren felt the low, easy burn of being opened up _perfectly_ , but was pleasantly surprised at how completely _soaked_ he was. He wiggled slightly, only half-considering showering.

“Mmmm, you came so much. Is it always like that? Loads and loads?”

“Uh. Yeah. It's, um. Always been like that,” Matt gave a half-hearted shrug, “I should have warned you, probably, but... I thought you might be into it.”

Bren groaned in appreciation; he really was. “D'you have a round two in you? Since you, um. Mentioned wanting to do this all the time. We could. If you wanted.”

He was _blushing._

Matt grinned, running his hand down the back of Bren's damp braid and tugging it. “Give me a couple hours and a meal, sweetheart.”

Bren shivered.

He could work with that.

 


	4. Squeaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: Headcanon that Techie doesn't groan when Matt blows him. He squeaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes.

It happens, sometimes, that Techie would get overwhelmed and overworked and overdone, and so:  
  
Matt had a remedy.   
  
If he gets back from work (this time sweating in spite of the cold and grimy to boot), and he finds Techie scowling in front of a monitor, he sidles up real soft and sweet and lays his big hands on Techie’s tight shoulders and _digs_ in, until his lovely boy is breathing more deeply and sighing so softly.  
  
He kisses the top of his pale copper hair, where it parts in a swirl, and uses his thumbs to trick Techie away from his source of stress– just for a moment. Just to reset.   
  
This is a time when Techie had been curled up in his nice office chair, a blanket wrapped all the way around him, like a cloak. It’s been cold, and they don’t much run the heat– for the computers, for the bill, and for the excuse to warm up together.  
  
“Mattie,” Techie says, a plaintive kind of warning, but he doesn’t mean it half as much as he should. “You… you just got done working, _shit_ …”  
  
Matt is not dissuaded: He continues his massage down Techie’s arms and hands, kissing his neck and then wherever he can reach. The blanket is bunching up. He gets down to Techie’s legs, and, carefully, he unfolds them and massages his thighs, spending entirely too much attention on the in-between of them– on the soft lines where they meet. It’s working, of course: He’s done this before, he knows what Techie likes.  
  
“Let me, baby, okay?” he says, still so sweet, still so easy. Techie nods, a high, muffled sound trying to make its way past his lips as Matt pulls down his lounge pants, licking up the whole length of him in one go. It’s almost like Matt has flipped a switch inside that translates all the stress into arousal, just like that. Maybe he did. He’s got the head of Techie’s warm cock in his mouth, and he switches one hand and then then next while he pulls himself out of the top half of his coverall, keeping his grip on the base loose and inviting. He hums and Techie whines, letting his head drop against the back of his chair.  
  
His fingers twitch in Matt’s curls; they’re just a little stiff with the salt of a day’s labor, and he can’t imagine it any other way. It feels _so_ good. Matt is inordinately skilled, hardly any gag reflex, soft lips, and the kind of mouth that can take _a lot_. Techie’s hips twitch and he hears it starting, his diaphragm jumping in overwrought excitement.  
  
He tries to moan, but _Matt_ moans, deep, all around his dick, and the only sound that Techie can make is a _mm mm mm ah ah oh mm ha_ all high and strained and _squeaky_. He can’t help it, it feels too good: Matt’s tongue undulates while he bobs his head and _oh_ , oh _no_ , when he hums through his nose like that and just lightly lightly _lightly_ touches Techie’s sac it’s–  
  
Matt brings both of his big hands up and along Techie’s thighs, bringing them to rest snug along his waist. He pushes in his thumbs, so gently, and it spurs a hiccup of desperate sound– that abrupt, startled little noise that he _lives_ for  
  
“Mattie, Mattie- _mm mm mm ah–_ ” Techie’s bright cheeks and loose hair and grasping fingers are like a dream, and Matt pulls up and off in one, torturous drag, just enough to tease, just enough to say:

“Why don’t you come in my mouth, my mouse? Sweetheart? Baby?” before he grabs Techie’s hips and pulls him forward, to the edge of the chair, _close_ , and takes his whole dick down all the way, until Techie can feel Matt’s big nose in the red hair below, all the way down.  
  


“ _Oh,_ ” he squeaks, digging his heels into Matt’s back and his dick down the back of Matt’s throat. It’s good, he’s so _good;_ there isn’t anything else in the whole wide world, just Matt’s hot mouth and strong tongue and his big, big hands holding him up. “Mattie! Mm-Mattie–!”  
  
And Matt couldn’t be happier because he can _taste_ it, the impending rush of feel-good and feel-better and _this is how much I love you_. It’s tacky and sweetbitter in the back of his mouth, a warning of the main event, and best of all, _yes_ , the sounds were coming just as strongly, just as wildly.  
  
Techie tries moaning, tries groaning, tries to catch his breath, but there’s no breath he can take that will open him up when he’s like this. Panting, sometimes close to hyperventilating, and _dizzy_ with it, like Matt has _him_ by the throat, too. He squeaks and sputters and shudders and tenses while Matt brings one hand back to his tight, tight sac, to the space between, and the other up up up to one nipple, just to cruelly flick it right when Techie doesn’t think he could handle any more.  
  
Another press, and flick, and push, and touch, and _moan_ deep from Matt’s chest, and Techie is curling up all around him, shaking and sweating, in spite of the cold, and gasping, squeaking: “ _Ah ah ah ah ah,_ ” while he comes in long spurts, stress-free, all down Matt’s swallowing throat and along his waiting tongue.  
  
Matt continues to hum in approval, returning his hands to the task of petting Techie’s sides and then his leaf-shaky legs. Bringing him down from the good place he had gone, from where Matt had taken him.

He gently draws off of Techie’s sensitive, relaxing cock, and starts to shimmy Techie’s lounge pants back up one leg, then the other, then altogether. “Does that feel better?” he croons, leaning up to wrap his arms around Techie’s waist and back, the blanket all disheveled to the floor.  
  
Techie nods, emphatic, and brings his rosy fingertips up to push his hair behind his even rosier ears. “Much better, Mattie. So much better.”  
  
“Wonderful,” Matt whispers, all relaxed and at ease now that Techie’s stress is reduced from sucking all the air from the room, from his sweet lungs. That, Matt thinks as he kisses Techie’s warmed-up throat, is entirely _his_ job.

 

 


	5. Shudder & Gasp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon Asked: [number prompt] with Matt and Techie?? If you're able can it be a sweet and gentle smut? If not that's fine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sweet and gentle (and p short, sorry)

“There… there,” Matt whispered, his forehead pressed to Bren’s; slowly, stubbornly, the redhead shifted in Matt’s lap, his knees shaking against Matt’s hips. He hissed and pushed his forehead more firmly against the blonde’s, focusing for a minute on the way Matt’s damp curls felt on his skin. He felt like a creature made of warm fog, the way the heat curled all around his shoulders, his chest. Looking down, he could see the low curve of his belly, and Matt’s eight-pack; his own cock was held between, red and slick with precome and Matt’s own spit, from the halting blowjob that had begun this tryst.

It had been nice, in the wet of Mattie’s mouth, but he’d wanted more.

“Ohhhh,” he groaned; his fingers tightened where they were laced behind Matt’s neck, his forearms slick over the blonde’s trapezium muscles. It had been a while, maybe a week or so, since the last they could have each other in this way, and the going was slow in the most wonderful, agonizing way.

“Mattie, you’re…”

“Mm?” Matt rubbed his palm down Bren’s neck and back. With both hands resting on the redhead’s hips, he massaged his fingertips into Bren’s lower back, helping him relax- the muscle memory was there, it just needed a nudge.

Bren let out a ragged laugh, “You’re really big.”

The blonde snorted, massaging more aggressively. As Bren’s chuckle subsided, he bucked upward, once, in a smooth, calculated rut; his reward was Bren’s exposed throat as he let his head fall back, an intense wail tumbling out of him. “I- I saw stars,” Bren giggled, breathing hard. He rocked in Matt’s lap, full and satisfied and _ready_.

Matt grinned, dragging his palms back up to Bren’s shoulders; beneath him, the couch creaked in complaint. Still, he pushed up into the tight, humid heat that never failed to amaze him, pulling Bren down as he fucked a steady rhythm of squeaks out of both the couch and his partner.

“Matt, Matt, please don’t stop–” Bren’s hands scrabbled across the broad width of his favorite person’s back. He curled, tight, and let Matt guide his hips. The pressure was tremendous, excruciating, as his partner tucked him more securely against his chest, against his stomach. _That_. The way their sweat mixed and slid between them, the way his cock leaked and rubbed and _begged_. It was close, so soon, but so good; Matt knew how to bring him to the edge entirely too well.

He hung on, arms locked around Matt’s neck and shoulders, rocking and full of fervor and the satisfaction of getting his way. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

Matt grunted, his abs working so hard Bren could _feel_ it against the heat of his dick, working hard for _him_. “Oh, oh, oh,” he hid his face against Matt’s neck, licking the sweat there, mindless; he was shuddering, gasping, “I love you, I love you, I love you– _Ooooh, my god, yes, yes–!_ ”

With a tremendous groan, Matt shoved upward, his voice like a roar against Bren’s chest, vibration and sound and _gratification_. “ _Fuck!_ ” he ground out, biting and nipping at Bren’s neck and shoulder, over the blooms of red that dominated his freckled skin. “Oh, baby, yes, yes, _thank you_.”

The nips turned to kisses all along Bren’s left arm, limp in Matt’s grasp. He squeezed, low, unable to help himself, and Matt moaned against the thud of his pulse in his narrow wrist. “Come here, let me look at you,” the blonde murmured, gently pulling Bren away from his chest; the whitish silk of Bren’s release strung and broke between them, sticky and unbearably erotic. Eyes half-lidded and gaze fantastically blissed out, Bren met Matt’s eyes and smiled. He was slumped and for the moment without self-consciousness. Matt’s hands were warm and sweet against his cheeks, thumbs brushing slow and easy across the fan of his eyelashes.

“Mattie,” the redhead whispered, boneless outside of Matt holding him together.

“Mmm, I love you, too, my sweet mouse,” Matt tapped their noses together and exhaled- fine red hairs stuck to Bren’s neck, fighting the gust, clinging with salts. “Do you want to take a bath?”

Bren nodded, blinking slow and sleepy and content, ready to go wherever Matt wanted to take him, maybe just like a mouse. Maybe just like a man who finally knew how much he was loved.

 

 


End file.
